


Ignorance Was Never Bliss

by wolftez



Series: Delightful Misadventures [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor is a sweet cinnamon roll and I want him to be protected for the rest of his days, Gen, Hank is just the man for the job, Minor Violence, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 01:30:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14801790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolftez/pseuds/wolftez
Summary: Connor has a long, winding road ahead of him in figuring out just who he is, but with Hank by his side, that road might be a little less curvy.





	Ignorance Was Never Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> I am completely in love.
> 
> This game has actually consumed my life and heart and feelings. I've been wanting to write about their friendship for days, and I hope I did my new favorite duo some justice.

In the coming dawn, there was a certain muted glow to the world around Connor. Beautiful views and sounds were intriguing to him, and when Hank suggested they meet up before the rest of the world could wake, when he asked if they could meet at his favorite burger concession stand, Connor had smiled softly to himself and genuinely agreed. 

It was so much better coming back here with the soft rays of sunlight encasing a warm glow over them instead of the dark, mucky night he'd once seen it in. Nobody walked these streets, which was unusual for a city as bustling as Detroit. It didn't even matter that it was 6:53 AM, the place should have been bustling with androids and humans alike heading off for their day jobs, for school, for their leisure time activities. But, it was like everyone knew what was coming in a few seconds, and the world was giving Connor and Hank the moment for their selves. 

He saw Hank first, and unexpectedly, his anxiety level had started to climb at the sight of his partner. It was the first time he'd seen him since that night in the CyberLife warehouse, the night he officially broke from his programming and deviated, and while that had felt like a relief at the time and in the short time that followed, being faced with Hank now, and wondering what he thought about his deviant turn, made him nervous. 

From what Connor had gathered from Hank's mannerisms and actions and words while they had been working together, he was a full-fledged android supporter. The change had been slow, and Connor had been dealing with his own inner struggles as Hank fought against his old beliefs, but he had been able to spot the signs in Hank's change of stance on the android issue. 

For one, the change from calling Connor an _it_ to a _he_ was something that had the android looking at him twice. The first time it happened, Connor had assumed that it was a slip of the tongue, a mistake the man had made in the heat of the moment. But, then he said it again. And again. And Connor knew he had won the stubborn man over just a little bit. Hank's reactions to Connor's more sympathetic decisions also gave the android pause. The hostility in Hank's eyes and demeanor lessened considerably with each emotional choice Connor made, whether it was something simple like inquiring about his personal tastes, or monumental like sparing the Chloe back at Kamski's house. 

Time after time Connor fought against himself in between doing what he thought was right and between doing what he could to complete his mission. He agonized over what the right choice was and which voice in his head he should listen to. All the while, Hank had witnessed these outcomes, and each time Connor showed deviant tendencies, Hank became more sympathetic. 

Connor had told himself that he was faulty, that there were errors in his software that were forcing him to behave outside of his programming, but every time Hank looked upon Connor with praise in his eyes and words of reassurance, it was hard to believe that he wasn't doing the right thing. 

Looking at Hank's profile now in the increasing sunlight of morning, he'd be remiss not to credit part of his becoming deviant to Hank. If it weren't for him, Connor probably would have fell victim back to the system, back to his masters, back to Amanda. But, he was free now, and Hank was a big reason for that. 

Connor took another soft step in the fresh snow that was sprinkling down around them, and even though the step was inaudible to Hank, the older man still gazed his way at that moment. Connor was still nervous about how Hank would react upon meeting him again. It was one thing for Hank to support the androids from a perspective, it was another to have his partner that he'd begun opening up to to deviate completely. 

Even from this distance, Connor could see the affection in the other man's eyes straight away, which effectively drained a bit of the tension from himself. He felt relaxed, looser, and couldn't help a small smile for his partner as he walked ever so slowly closer to him. 

It turned out that all of his anxiety was for nothing because Hank wasted no time in bringing Connor in for a hug—the first one they'd ever shared. Hank's heavy arms clutched onto his neck tight, squeezing out any air that could have been between them. It was a reassuring pressure, one that assured Connor that he was not alone, and more than that, he was accepted. He brought his own arms to clasp around Hank's bulkier frame, not quite able to reach all the way from shoulder to shoulder, but he didn't care. 

Hank pulled away first, but he didn't let go of him. He gripped his hands on Connor's shoulder and waist as he studied him from head to toe, shaking his head slowly with a sly smile on his face. 

"Look at ya," he said quietly, and Connor glanced down at himself, trying to see what Hank was in awe about. "The damn city was turned on its head last week, androids are startin' to roam freely and peacefully alongside the humans, and yet you still look the exact same. I don’t know, I guess I thought you'd look more..." 

"Different?" Connor said. 

Hank pulled a face. "Causal. Every other android in town ditched their service gear and traded in for the latest fashion." Hank snorted. "They look just as ridiculous as the humans who wear that new age shit, but I guess there's no acquiring for taste no matter what species you are." 

Connor frowned as he inspected his impeccable work uniform. "Why would I discard my work uniform for casual wear?" 

Hank narrowed his eyes at him, calculating. "Work uniform? That mean you still stayin' on the job? 'Cause I wasn't too sure you'd wanna be stuck doing the same thing you were pieced together for. You could do anything you want now, Connor." 

Connor hadn't even had to think about it. The minute androids were released from their forced labor jobs, he had seen the inspiration take hold of them, each one of them enthusing about what they could do with their lives from now on. Connor never had that moment take hold of him; he'd already known what he'd wanted to do.

"Detective work brings me great pleasure, lieutenant. And I'm good at it. I like the satisfaction solving a complicated case gives me. I like having a purpose and a goal, and it definitely doesn't hurt that I'm saving a few lives in the process. I think the only legitimate question here is whether or not you're up for having a partner from now on—a permanent one." 

Connor didn't show his emotions very well, but that didn't seem to matter with Hank. It was like the other man was so attuned to Connor's mannerisms the way Connor was with Hank's. He could tell by the way Hank’s eyes softened that the man could read between the impassive lines on Connor's face. 

Hank shook Connor’s shoulder beneath his hand lightly. “I gotta be honest, I always felt a lot safer heading out on leads with you by my side. I’m not gonna say no to an extra pair of eyes watching my back.” 

It was as close as Connor knew he was going to get to an earnest yes. 

Hank took him home after that. Connor hadn’t exactly thought about living arrangements since the uprising came to an end, and when Hank had callously offered in that not offering way of his to let Connor stay with him until he found a suitable place, Connor had no qualms about it. In fact, his body temperature had risen slightly to make him feel warm all over. 

That initial week had turned to a month, which then led to three months with Connor still living with Hank. It wasn’t really Connor’s fault, though. He’d been trying to find an apartment close enough to Hank so that they could coordinate easily on their cases together, but every time Connor set out to look at a place, Hank came to him with a subtle excuse not to go every time. One time, it was because Sumo was straggling a bit, and Hank was concerned over his well-being. Connor offered to do a quick check of his internal organs, but Hank stubbornly insisted that they needed to go to a veterinarian because they had all the equipment needed should something be seriously wrong with the dog. 

The veterinarian told them Sumo had excessive gas and just needed a diet switch-up. 

Another time, Connor was resolute that he was going to make it to his appointment to see an apartment, but Hank had a freak accident moments before he was supposed to leave. Connor ran to the bathroom and found Hank sprawled over the floor, all of his toiletries clattered around his body. He did a quick scan to find the source of Hank’s unconsciousness, but found nothing wrong. He couldn’t understand why Hank was breathing fine and his heart rate was fine and there was no bruising beneath the parts of his body that impacted the floor. 

Nonetheless, he carried the man all the way to his bedroom, and spent the evening looking after him, another appointment missed. 

Connor was no fool. He may have been naïve to human customs, but he understood when someone was trying to sabotage him. 

After a particularly bad ruse of Hank’s went wrong, which ended with a minor trip to the emergency room and a few bumps and bruises on Hank’s arms, Connor quietly put an end to his search for a new house. 

The next week had passed without incident. 

The atmosphere in the house changed once Connor had made his decision. He’d never noticed before just how much one decision could affect everyone around him. It was always just one snap, emotionless decision after another, but it all led to the ultimate outcome, a correct one. Connor didn’t have a mission in his programming anymore; he made decisions for himself now, and now he saw all the different ways it could impact those around him. 

Sometimes he’d made the wrong decision, like the time he’d accidentally locked Hank out of the house for three hours in the cold rain one night. Connor had been so preoccupied with trying to fix up all of the little faults in the house now that he would be living there, as well, and when he changed the broken lock on both the front and back doors, he had failed to ask Hank for his input on the matter. Not only that, but he also forgot to give Hank the new set of keys. When Connor returned home late and found Hank brooding in his car to his very loud, very erratic heavy metal, he sure got an earful of the old Hank for a minute there. He could hardly get a word in once Connor let him into the house and tossed him the shiny, pale pink keys the clerk at the counter had suggested was a wonderfully warm color. Hank had let the vibrant keys fall to the floor as he continued to be aggressive with Connor in stating that this was his house and he should have asked first if he could make adjustments. All of his fury left him, though, when Connor confusedly stated that he thought it was _their_ house now. Hank had been quiet, and after a moment of silence, he scooped up his keys from the ground and told him, with a small smile on his face, that he should go buy another key because over his dead body was he going to walk around town with a set of pink keys. 

But, Connor learned from these experiences. He calculated and anticipated the outcome of every choice before him in hopes of keeping the peace between them. His friendship with Hank was very important to him, and while he wouldn’t sacrifice his own self-happiness just to keep Hank from going hostile, he took care to take Hank’s feelings into account in the same way he knew Hank did for him. 

Navigating emotions was very complicated to Connor. More complex than piecing evidence together from a crime scene. More trickier than talking a deviant android off a ledge. Connor thought it was because emotions were unpredictable. People were constant, their behavior was predictable once you got to know them. Evidence left behind by perpetrators didn’t lie, it told an honest story. But, emotions were a reaction, they were a feeling, and no one could control how they felt. 

He got used to it, though; he adapted. Those three months expanded to six months, and by then, Connor had what he would call stability. He went to work with Hank every day, interrogating suspects and analyzing evidence. Then, they’d break off at night, and Hank usually went to the bar with some of his old colleagues. He’d stated over and over again how Connor was welcome to join them, but he respectfully never took him up on his offer, insisting that some alone time was good for the mind. 

Eventually, after months of asking, Connor finally agreed to go with Hank to the bar with his friends. They had just solved a big case they’d been working on for a few weeks. It was a case of a kidnapping where one biological parent had taken their child from the other biological parent and had taken the child on an unscheduled cross-country road trip. Kidnappings were given a high priority and Hank had been the lead detective on the case. Together, and after following many dead-end leads, Connor had been able to pinpoint a location for the mother and daughter which placed them in Pennsylvania, and Hank had called in the local police force there to detain them. 

It was Connor and Hank’s first big victory since they'd started working as equal partners, and Connor felt deep pride at solving it. He was so wrapped up in the positive feeling that he went along with Hank to the bar for a celebratory drink. He couldn’t actually drink with them, but Hank had said his presence was good enough. 

All night long, people came in and out of the bar, some of them coming up to Hank to greet him and congratulate him and to catch up on their lives. Connor enjoyed watching the display, enjoyed watching the way Hank thrummed with energy and a life force that was only just beginning to come back to the man. 

For the most part, people pretty much ignored Connor’s presence on the seat behind Hank. It didn’t really bother him to be ignored; he was just used to it by now. He didn’t draw attention to this fact, though, because he knew Hank would _not_ be okay with the blatant disrespect. So, he excused himself for some air, and while everyone knew he didn’t need it, Hank and a few of his more friendly colleagues waved him off with a smile and for a promise to buy them the next round. 

The air was crisp outside, a few traces of snow falling onto his synthetic skin and immediately melting away. The sidewalk was bustling with people, and a small group gathered on the opposite side of the entrance caught his attention. 

“All the guys are already inside, man, let’s get the fuck in there before I freeze my balls off.” 

Connor turned his head toward the men, and, as a habit, scanned them for their identification. They were detectives who worked at the same precinct as Hank did. He recognized a few of them without having to scan them since they were regular faces around the office. There was one man, though, that stood out to him and had him on alert. 

It was the man seething into the window pane, glancing at the rest of the team inside and laughing cheerily. The hostility in his demeanor was immediately clear to Connor, and he listened close to the conversation in hopes of detecting the cause of his anger. 

"Why didn't you say it was to celebrate Hank's victory? I thought we were here for our regular Tuesday night out," the hostile one said. 

"Aw, come on, I knew you wouldn't have come if I'd mentioned it. Besides, don't act like you're enemies with the man now. He's still the best lieutenant in town, drunk or not." 

The hostile man, Derek Jenkins, scoffed, and folded his arms into himself. "You know Hank's not the problem." 

The other man leaned toward the window, inspecting the crowd inside. "Uh … I don't see that android anywhere in sight. He never joins the guys here, anyway, I would have noticed by now." 

Derek very pointedly turned sideways and looked directly at Connor, as if he'd known he was there the entire time. "That's because the plastic doll was behind us the whole time, you dipshit." 

The guy next to Derek whipped his head in Connor's direction at this. The man's cheeks had already had a red tint to it from the below average temperatures, but Connor saw the shade darken even further upon realizing the two weren't alone in their conversation. 

As the rest of Derek's group started to wade into the bar, Connor continued to stare at the pair of them, nobody moving except for the oblivious people still walking along the sidewalk. Then, Derek crossed the couple of feet between them and stopped, glaring up at him with a look of pure contempt. 

"They may have been legally forced to take down their No Androids sign, but make no mistake, Barbie, you're still not welcome in there. Or, in the precinct. Or, anywhere that I have to go, so why don't you be a good little robot and fuck off." Derek shook his head and swayed back and forth on the spot, gathering the rage Connor could tell was about to flow. "You're the reason I don't want to go in there. I can't even go in and congratulate my fellow comrade because of you. I just want you to know that." 

"Derek," his friend said, stepping closer with uncertainty on his face. "It's not worth it, man. Let's just go before you do something stupid." 

"I'm sorry that my presence here offends you," Connor said, trying to keep Derek's hostility to a minimum, "but I have every right to be here, just like you do. Please, don't let me stop you from speaking to the lieutenant." 

Derek narrowed his eyes and huffed a tiny breath in amusement, and Connor knew what was coming before the muscles in the other man's arms could even begin to tighten. Connor dodged to the side just as Derek's arm swung through the air, missing his midsection by inches. 

"Derek, what the fuck? Quit it," his friend said, grasping onto Derek's leather jacket to restrain him. He flailed against his friend in an attempt to escape his hold, but the other man must have been very concerned for him for he held on so tight his knuckles were beginning to whiten. 

"I would advise you not to attack me," Connor said in hopes of deescalating the situation. "Regardless of how you've treated androids in the past, I feel compelled to remind you that you would be committing a punishable offense should you hit me first." 

He was trying to be soothing, using everything he knew about tense situations and how to defuse them and incorporating it now, and to his mild surprise, Derek's struggles quieted. He jerked his shoulder from beneath his friend's now loose grip and studied Connor. 

"You're right," he said rather calmly, and Connor visibly relaxed at the compliant tone. Before he could thank Derek for coming to an understanding, he was suddenly knocked onto his hands and knees roughly by a punch to the stomach. He tried to stand back up but another blow to his stomach had his knees giving out until he was sprawled onto the dirty concrete, face down. 

It was unpleasant, but he wasn't hurt. It was almost laughable how the humans attacked androids in the same way they attacked other humans. It's not like he felt any pain from the hit, but he was sure Derek felt better for it. 

Instead of trying to pick himself back up, he turned his head upwards. Derek was shaking the pain out of his hand, but, of course, the smug grin that lit up his face was very prominent. His friend, on the other hand, was looking down and away. 

"You know it all, you plastic prick," Derek said as he started to back away. "It is a punishable offense to knock your ass out. Why don't you call the cops about it?" He raised an eyebrow playfully and finally turned and walked away, grabbing his sullen friend in the process. 

Connor let his eyes fall closed for a moment, reflecting on the incident as he lay on the ground. He was used to this. This rough treatment was all he'd known from the humans, and while Connor tried to stay indifferent about it, he couldn't help the rise of anger stemming up. He didn't deserve this. He was used to it, yes, but he shouldn't have been. 

The whole country was trying to get used to living equally alongside androids, but Connor had never taken a moment to think about how the androids were going through the exact same thing. It was just as hard for androids to shed themselves of many years of abuse and to shed the image that human meant master. It wasn't true anymore. There were no masters, there was no one to answer to. 

It was still a challenge and a struggle to go out into the world every day and wonder if the humans they were going to encounter were going to be accepting of them. Connor felt lucky that he had someone who cared for him despite his android status, but it suddenly irked him that he felt lucky in the first place. He shouldn't have had to feel lucky for something as basic as respect. 

After that incident, he decided it was easier for everyone if he didn't accompany Hank to the bar anymore. He went back to the place he found to be quite peaceful. It was the fountain at central park he wandered to at night time when he wanted to enjoy a little bit of nature. It reminded him a lot of the garden he used to rendezvous with Amanda at. While their talks had never been a subject of great happiness, the garden itself was. It was bright and glowing, full of nature elements Connor was very fond of. The fountain in central park had everything good about the garden without the element of Amanda there to taint it. 

Connor came here night after night to reflect on his day. Hank was at the bar now, no doubt 'boozing it up' as he called it. 

Today had been a rough day. Last night, they got the call of a simple robbery and assault and were assigned to the case. Since the attack was caught on the camera, they only had to watch the recording to identify their suspect. He hated to admit it, but the footage was a bit hard for Connor to watch. The male, human suspect broke into the locked convenience store and attacked an android who was taking inventory in the back room. The android held up his hands when he realized his predicament, but the human didn't care. He struck blow after blow to the android, needlessly knocking him around the room and tearing the place up. The man only left once he'd gotten the android to open up the register. 

Lucky for them, the man had scarred up his knuckles from the constant punches to plastic, and he left a blood trail that Connor followed to about five blocks down the street and to an abandoned house. Hank tried to take the lead once Connor told him the suspect was in the building, but Connor didn't let him. He rushed forward and left Hank's rough calls for him behind. It was dark and musky in the decrepit room, but Connor pushed past that and finally found his suspect sleeping in a dark corner in plain sight. 

He must have been a light sleeper. As Connor started for him, he stepped on an already broken vase and clattered the glass even more. The man quickly shot up and wasted no time in raising a gun between his hands to aim at Connor, but before he could dodge, a shot rang out and the suspect cried out in pain. Connor shot a look behind him and found Hank lowering his gun.  

He wanted to thank him in that moment, but it felt more pressing to go after the suspect. He ran over to the man who was wailing in agony, and he could see the blood trailing down his hands. He didn't really think about it when he shoved the man to the floor and wrestled his arms roughly behind his back. He might have slammed him down to get the moaning and crying to stop, but he couldn't stop the sudden rage fueling him, the voice in his head telling him that this human _deserved_ to be handled roughly. 

He was reaching for his cuffs when Hank placed a firm hand on his shoulder. 

" _What_?" he snapped up at his partner. 

Hank's eyebrows rose at the hostile tone. "You sure you got this?" 

Connor glanced back down at the man beneath him, who had stopped his struggling and only whined pathetically now. Then, he looked back at Hank with his full composure back. "Of course." He cuffed the man and stood the both of them up. He had to carry most of the suspect's weight, but he got him into the back of one of the police cars that had followed them to the location, and without a glance at Hank, he got back into their car. 

They drove back to the house in silence, and this time, Connor was the one to blast the Knights of the Black Death from the car's deteriorating stereo. 

Connor sighed as he leaned back against the park bench now and closed his eyes. It had been hard seeing such blatant violence against one of his own. Perhaps that impacted the way he treated the human. He was unnecessarily rough with him, and Connor was struck by the thought that this was as close as he had ever come to attacking a human unprovoked. It scared him to think of the hatred he was capable of. 

"Is this what you do all the time?" A voice said, and Connor's eyes shot open at the intrusion. Hank was slowly walking toward him, glancing around the empty park skeptically. "Just sit around this place and meditate or some shit?" 

"Meditation is a healthy form of ridding one's self of a buildup of stress. It is quite relaxing, I've found. I think some meditation would do wonders for your mental health, lieutenant. No offense." 

Hank chuckled as he took up the empty seat beside Connor. "Thanks for the suggestion, but I've already got my own form of meditation that's never failed me." 

"Drinking toxic levels of alcohol is more likely to bring your mental state down than actually cleanse yourself of your troubles long term." 

Hank didn't reply to his analysis. Instead, he said, "And you? Are you telling me that your stress levels are high?" 

Connor thought about lying, but Hank knew him too well by now. "They're … above average, I'd say. Nothing I can't fix with a quick meditation session." 

Hank nodded complacently. "Hmm. Yeah, see, that's why I followed you here tonight. I know what happened back at that convenience store really shook you up. You can pretend like you're the old mission-focused Connor and nothing bothers you, but I've seen that look of hatred in many people before you. Hell, I see it every damn day in the fucking mirror." Hank hung his head briefly before facing Connor once more. "My point is I've been there, son. Everyone has. I'm just surprised it took you this long for your rage to finally catch up with you." 

Connor shook his head. "I don't understand what happened," he said, reflecting out loud instead of to himself this time. "I've been dealing with injustice and unfair treatment for so long that I didn't know there could be another way for androids. Until suddenly there was. Everything I thought I knew was wrong, and it's been hard trying to adjust to this supposed 'equality' for androids. But today, after seeing how vicious that man was to that peaceful android, it just felt like something inside me snapped. I couldn't control myself then, I couldn't control my thoughts. I wanted to _hurt_ him for what he did to my kind, and that uncontrollable feeling scared me, Hank." His voice was steadily rising as he let himself remember that rage from earlier. "I was so harsh with that man when there was no immediate need for it. If you hadn't brought my attention to you, I don't know what I would have done to him." 

"Hey, hey, easy, Connor, calm down," Hank said, once again bringing Connor back down to earth. As quickly as it had come, the anger left him, leaving him feeling alone and lost. 

"Look at me," Hank said, and after a moment, Connor complied. "You wouldn't have killed him." 

"But, how do you know that?" 

"Because I know you. And I know that above all, justice is something you hold in high regards. It's probably the most important moral you hold, and that's very admirable for a detective." 

Connor felt himself begin to loosen up as Hank reassured him. He trusted the man, and his words of kindness were always something Connor held as truth since it wasn't really in Hank's nature to be so generous. 

"I was rough with him, though, when I already had him restrained. Is that justice, too?" 

Hank snorted. "That's just plain normal. You think I haven't roughed up a few assholes in my day? Fucking pricks who act like their bad choices have no consequences need the beating their mother never gave them. As long as no one requires medical attention, then there's nothing wrong with instilling a little fear in them assholes. Might just make them think twice before they do something stupid." 

Connor didn't really understand where Hank was coming from, but he understood that he was trying to make him feel better, and that alone calmed his anxiety over the incident. 

"There was something else I've been meaning to bring up," Hank said, and Connor waited patiently. Hank struggled for words, but eventually, he said, "What happened outside the bar that night?" 

Connor's anxiety returned. "Which night?" 

Hank gave him an unimpressed look. "The night Santa Claus showed up," he said, and his tone made Connor wince. "What do you think I'm talking about? Last week, when I found you belly-up on the ground. I didn't push it that night, mostly because I was too damn drunk to give you my full attention, but I could never find a time to bring it up." 

Connor nodded. "Oh, that night." 

"Oh, that night," Hank mocked. Then, his eyes turned serious. "Did someone hurt you?" 

Connor was totally prepared to fabricate a story that wouldn't result in causing any strife in Hank's relationships with people he'd known for a long time. It was the reason he didn't mention it before. But, it was very hard to keep true to that sentiment when Hank was staring him down so intensely, ready to call him out on any lie Connor was prepared to give. 

He was pretty much helpless when it came to Hank. 

"Yes. I was attacked that night." 

"Jesus, what in the fuck," he said, running an agitated hand over his mouth. "Why the hell didn't you say anything?" 

"I didn't want to put a damper on your celebratory night." 

"That was _our_ night, Connor, and some asshole jumped you. Not much of a victory if only one of us was celebrating." 

"Please, lieutenant, it wasn't that big of a deal. It was only one of them, and I don't feel pain, anyway." 

"That's not the fucking point, son, it’s the fact that someone thought they had the right to put hands on you." Hank was seething. "Who was it?" 

"Lieutenant—" 

"Give it up, Connor, I'm gonna find out one way or another, whether I have to go back to that bar and question every goddamn person who walks in, or go back to the precinct and get some guys on—" 

"Derek Jenkins," Connor said, effectively quieting Hank's tirade. "It was Derek Jenkins." 

Hank furrowed his brows. "Jenkins? Our Jenkins?" 

Connor nodded solemnly. 

No one said anything for a moment, and Connor was already beginning to regret giving in. It was hard to tell what Hank would do with this information, but all the possible paths came to one outcome in Connor's mind: Derek walking into the station with a black eye. 

"That asshole. That motherfucking weasel, when I see him again—" 

"Please, Hank, don't escalate the situation. It happened a week ago, it's too late to do anything about it." 

"Fuck that, Connor. Are you gonna let him get away with treating you like trash? Where's your justice, now?" 

That now familiar feeling of frustration rose up, boiling over into his tone. "I said leave it, lieutenant. I don't want any tension in the office. Think about it; we have to go there and see those people every day. Do you really want to cause strife in the workplace? Because that's what will happen if you confront Derek in front of everyone. I'm already the oddball on the team, the single android in the precinct, and I know that's because the guys in charge still have their reservations about hiring androids even after six months. I don't want to give them a reason to cast me aside, so please," he said, and his voice had lowered by now, unable to beat down the fear that was taking root. 

Hank didn't say anything, but Connor could see that his words had gotten to the other man. He had to see that Connor was speaking truly. No one wanted a hostile work environment, and that's what would happen if justice was served like it was meant to be. 

Connor guessed the peace androids and humans tentatively kept had a long way to go. 

"All right," Hank said. "But, I mean it when I say I want you to tell me if Derek, or anyone for that matter, tries to get rough with you. If you're not ready to let your dark side come out just yet, then I'll have no problem knocking some skulls together for you." 

Connor didn't think he'd actually take him up on his violent offer, but it made Connor smile knowing that Hank would come to his defense. 

"Thank you, lieutenant. I'll be sure to alert you the next time it happens." 

"Damn right you will," he said, then sighed very deeply, rubbing his hands on the rough of his jeans. "Whattaya say we head home? I haven't had a drink in nearly twenty-four hours, and that seriously needs to change in, like, two minutes. I'll even let you pick the music in the car. Let's see, it's either between Knights of the Black Death, orrr Knights of the Black Death. Totally up to you." 

Connor stood up and adjusted his tie, then offered Hank a hand. "That sounds wonderful." 

Music blasted in their ears on the ride back to the house, which made small talk impossible. That was okay. He had a lot of thoughts swirling around in his head that needed analyzing, but he could save that for another day. Right now, he was just a guy riding in a car with his best friend, and nothing in the world could ever compare in Connor's eyes. 

 *** 

The next day as Connor was sitting at his organized desk across from Hank, the loud slap of a hand smacking down at his desk had him jump in his seat. 

Derek was standing over him with the calmest look of rage he'd ever seen on the easy-going detective. Immediately, Connor zeroed in on the fresh bruise plastered against Derek's left eye. The reddish purpling patch was hard to look away from until Derek coughed meaningfully. 

"I just came over to say..." Derek said, voice tightly strained as though he were trying to conceal his true emotions. "That … I'm sorry." 

A cough from across Connor's desk had Derek's eyes flitting to Hank momentarily before he rolled them and faced Connor once more. "I'm sorry for attacking you. I was an asshole. You didn't deserve it." His words were clipped. 

The connection between the bruise, Derek's out of place apology, and Hank's obviously fake cough had Connor scrambling to piece this puzzle together, but Connor only had time to say, "Thank you—" before Derek stormed away from his desk in haste. 

Connor looked at Hank for an answer to the bizarre event, but the other man merely smiled, and said, "Justice is always served. Isn't that our motto?" 

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh! Okay, I'm seriously excited about posting to this fandom because everything is so fresh and new, and I really hope I can make this a habit, but I have a tendency to take quite a while to finish a piece. I'm surprised this piece only took me two days, but I'm sure it shows, oh jesus fuck.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> [tumblr](http://harrysedwrds.tumblr.com/)


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